 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
The Session of the Poets,
to the Tune of Cook Lawrel.
1
Apollo concern'd to see the Transgressions,Our paultry Poets do daily commit,
Gave order once more to summon a Sessions,
Severely to punish the abuses of Wit.
2
Will D' Avenant wou'd fain have been Steward o'th' Court,To have fin'd and amerc'd each Man at his Will,
But Apollo, it seems, had heard a report,
That his choice of new Plays did show h'had no skill.
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3
Besides some Criticks had ow'd him a spight,And a little before had made the God fret,
By letting him know the Laureat did write,
That damnable Farce, The House to be Lett.
4
Intelligence was brought, the Court being set,That a Play Tripartite was very near made,
Where malicious Matt Clifford and spiritual S---t,
Were joyn'd with their Duke a Peer of the Trade.
5
Apollo rejoyc'd, and did hope for amends,Because he knew it was the first case,
The Duke e'er did ask the advice of his Friends,
And so wish his Play as well clapt as his Grace.
6
O Yes being made, and silence proclaim'd,Apollo began to read the Court Roul,
When as soon as he saw Frank Berkley was nam'd,
He scarce cou'd forbear from tearing the Scroul.
7
But Berkley, to make his Interest the greater,Suspecting before what would come to pass,
Procur'd him his Cozen Fitzharding's Letter,
With which Apollo wiped his Arse.
8
Guy with his Pastoral next went to Pot,At first in a dolefull Study he stood,
Then shew'd a Certificate which he had got
From the Maids of Honour, but it did him no good.
9
Humorous Weeden came in in a Pet,And for the Laurel began to splutter;
But Apollo chid him, and bid him first get
A Muse not so common as Mrs. Rutter.
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10
A number of other small Poets appear'd,With whom for a time Apollo made sport;
Clifford and Flecknoe were very well jear'd,
And in conclusion whipp'd out of the Court.
11
Tom Killegrew boldly came up to the Bar,Thinking his jibing would get him the Bays,
But Apollo was angry and bid him beware
That he caught him no more a printing his Plays.
12
With ill luck in Battle but worse in Wit,George Porter began for the Laurel to bawl,
But Apollo did think such Impudence fit
To be thrust out of Court, as he's out of Whitehall.
13
Savage missing Cowley came into the Court,Making Apologies for his bad Play,
Ev'ry one gave him so bad a Report,
That Apollo gave heed to all he could say:
14
Nor wou'd he have had, 'tis thought, a rebuke,Unless he had done some notable Folly;
Writ Verses unjustly in praise of Sam Tuke,
Or printed his pitifull Melancholy.
15
Cotton did next to the Bays pretend,But Apollo told him it was not fit,
Though his Virgil was well, it made but amends
For the worst Panegyrick that ever was writ.
16
Old Shirley stood up and made an excuse,Because many young Men before him were got;
He vow'd he had switch'd and spur-gall'd his Muse,
But still the dull Jade kept to her old Trot.
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17
Sir R---t H---d, call'd for over and over,At length sent in Teague with a Pacquet of News,
Wherein the sad Knight, to his grief, did discover,
How Dryden had lately robb'd him of his Muse.
18
Each Man in the Court was pleas'd with the Theft,Which made the whole Family swear and rant,
Desiring their Obin i'th'lurch being left,
The Thief might be fin'd for the Wild Gallant.
19
Dryden, whom one wou'd have thought had more Wit,The censure of ev'ry Man did disdain,
Pleading some pitifull Rhimes he had writ,
In praise of the Countess of Castlemaine.
20
Ned Howard, in whom great Nature is found,Tho' never took notice of till that day,
Impatiently sat till it came to his round,
Then rose and commended the Plot of his Play.
21
Such Arrogance made Apollo stark mad,But Sherley endeavour'd to appease his Choller,
By owning the Play, and swearing the Lad
In Poetry was a very pert Schollar.
22
James Howard being call'd for out of the Throng,Booted and spurr'd to the Bar did advance,
Where singing a damn'd nonsensical Song,
The Youth and his Muse were sent into France.
23
Newcastle and's Horse for entrance next strives,Well stuff'd was his Cloakbag and so was his Breeches,
And unbutt'ning the place where Nature's Posset-maker lives,
Pull'd out his Wife's Poems, Plays, Essays & Speeches.
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24
Whoop, quoth Apollo, what a Devil have we here,Put up thy Wife's Trumpery good noble Marquiss,
And home again, home again take thy Carreer,
To provide her fresh Straw, and a Chamber that dark is.
25
Sam Tuke sat and formally smil'd at the rest,But Apollo, who well did his Vanity know,
Call'd him to the Bar to put him to th'Test,
But his Muse was so stiff she scarcely cou'd go.
26
She pleaded her Age desir'd a Reward;It seems in her Age she doated on praise,
But Apollo resolv'd that such a bold Bard
Shou'd never be grac'd with a Per'wig of Bays.
27
Stapleton stood up and had nothing to say,But Apollo forbid the old Knight to despair,
Commanding him once more to write a new Play,
To be danc'd by the Poppets at Barth'lomew Fair.
28
Sir William Killegrew doubting his Plays,Before he was call'd crept up to the Bench,
And whisper'd Apollo, in case he wou'd praise
Selyndra, he should have about with the Wench.
29
B---st and Sydley, with two or three moreTranslators of Pompey dispute in their claim,
But Apollo made them be turn'd out of door,
And bid them be gone like Fools as they came.
30
Old Waller heard this, and was sneaking away,But somebody spy'd him out of the Crowd;
Apollo tho' h'had not seen him many a day,
Knew him full well, and call'd to him aloud;
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31
My old Friend, Mr. Waller, what make you there,Among those young Fellows that spoil the French Plays,
Then beck'ning to him, whisper'd in his Ear,
And gave him good Council instead of the Bays.
32
Then in came Denham, that limping old Bard,Whose Fame on the Sophy and Cooper's Hill stands;
And brought many Stationers who swore very hard,
That nothing sold better, except 'twere his Lands.
33
But Apollo advis'd him to write something more,To clear a suspicion which possess'd the Court,
That Cooper's Hill, so much bragg'd on before,
Was writ by a Vicar, who had forty Pound for't.
34
Then Hudibras boldly demanding the Bays,But Apollo bad him not be so fierce,
And advis'd him to lay aside making his Plays,
Since he already began to write worse and worse.
35
Tom Porter came into the Court in a huff,Swearing damn him, he had writ the best Plays;
But Apollo, it seems, knew his way well enough,
And wou'd not be hector'd out of his Bays.
36
Ellis in great discontent went away,Whilst D' Avenant against Apollo did rage,
Because he declar'd the Secrets a Play,
Fitting for none but a Mountebank Stage.
37
John Wilson stood up and wildly did stare,When on the sudden stept in a bold Scot,
And offer'd Apollo he freely wou'd swear,
The said Maister Wilson mought pass for a Sot.
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38
But all was in vain, for Apollo, 'tis said,Would in no wise allow of any Scotch Wit;
Then Wilson in spite made his Plays to be read,
Swearing he'd answer for all he had writ.
39
Clarges stood up and laid claim to the Bayes,But Apollo rebuk'd that arrogant Fool;
Swearing if e're he translated more Plays,
He'd Crown him Sir Reverence with a Close-stool.
40
Damn'd Holden with's dull German Princess appear'd,Whom if Davenant he got as some do suppose;
Apollo said the Pillory should crop off his Ears,
And make them more suitable unto his Nose.
41
Rhodes stood and play'd at Bo-peep in the Door,But Apollo instead of a Spanish Plot;
On condition the Varlet would never write more,
Gave him three pence to pay for a Pipe and a Pot.
42
Ethridge and Shadwell and the Rabble appeal'dTo Apollo himself in a very great rage;
Because their best Friends so freely had deal'd,
As to tell them their Plays were not fit for the Stage.
43
Then seeing a Crowd in a Tumult resort,Well furnish'd with Verses but loaded with Plays:
It forc'd poor Apollo to adjourn the new Court,
And left them together by th'Ears for the Bayes.
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